Maybe People Do Change For The Better
by FoulkseyDarkRose
Summary: Set During 'Bitter Blood' (SPOILERS) After Michael Glass does something to surprise everyone, Claire Danvers begins to notice that her friends are not as perfect as she first thought. But what does this mean for her in Morganville? With the town under duress; Amelie and Oliver play a dangerous game - angering pretty much everyone in town...
1. Misunderstood in Morganville

Chapter One

Claire's POV:

Sometimes Claire felt like her whole life was someone else's.

She couldn't help but feel this similar sensation as she stared at Michael – her landlord, house mate, and her best friend's _husband_ – in horror. The way he had violated her person space, her mouth, was _so_ wrong. And totally not right.

Only moments ago, only a few seconds ago, it was normal._ Not that normal, _she scolded herself as she once again risked a sneak glance at Eve. A pang of regret came from deep within her. When she saw Michael moving towards her in that tiny hospital room, she should have known really. The look on his face seconds before he kissed her told her everything.

Michael was feeling scared, angry and worst . . he was enjoying himself immensely. Anyone who didn't know him as Claire did would have said otherwise. They would have said that someone had influenced Michael somehow. It was just so very out of character. Not Michael Glass, the kind and caring eighteen year old who had grudgingly let her into his home two years ago. Why hadn't she moved away? She just stood there stupidly and let a married man stick his tongue down her throat. With her boyfriend, Shane, and Eve.. Right. There.

"Claire. Don't stare at me," Michael hissed at her, his eyes mutely flashing burgundy. She jumped, having not realised she had been even looking at him the entire time she had analysed what had just happened. Averting her eyes, Shane Collins could be seen on the other side of the room. C_rap, _Claire thought_. _Her expression must have said it all, because her boyfriend merely grunted. Shane was leaning against the wall, watching her intensely. The damn boy didn't seem at all surprised. She took a huge laboured breath;

"Shane – "

"Shut up, Claire,"

When she opened her mouth to protest, he continued, "I don't want to see you any more. You hurt everyone. I've always known," Shane took a step towards her with every heart breaking word, looking at her as though they were alone. As though the last crazy twenty-four hours hadn't happened at all. He didn't even glance at Eve or Michael. No, this was all about her.

Claire set her chin firmly, "Known what, huh? That I'm a heartless tart?" she spat at her boyfriend, layering the sarcasm on thickly.

The heavy lights of the hospital room seemed to throw a dramatic twinge on everything; Eve looked extremely young and sick on the hospital bed. Claire could see that, as she backed slowly away from her fuming _ex_boyfriend, Eve looked dead inside. Shane looked closed down, face of the finest marble on earth, looking at her with a loathing passion. Ouch.

This was getting them nowhere. Claire – the whole of Morganville – had a crisis that needed fixing. Surprise, surprise. Little Claire would just have to carry out the impossible to save the day. Yet again.

The feeling of living someone else's life hit her stronger than moments before. _If only this were a dream! _She screamed in her head. If only Amelie had not gone all Darth Vader on their asses, if only Claire had accepted her place at MIT, if only Myrnin hadn't left town...

Shaking her head at whatever lame reply Shane was about to throw at her, Claire steadied herself. Myrnin wouldn't want to cry in a corner. He would be out there, building and developing a master plan to somehow get out of this god's forsaken mess. Otherwise known as Morganville.

Channelling her crazy-yet-brilliant vampire boss Myrnin, Claire swung back to Shane and said in a monotone voice, "I'm leaving," Aloof, Ice Queen. On a roll, enjoying this new Claire that reminded her way too much of Amelie, she continued her rant at her house mates.

She turned to the vampire stood rigid, mirroring Shane, "Whatever is up with you today, Michael, you need to get your act together. I know you're scared, but heck we all are. Look at her -" She gestured toward the broken and bruised Eve, "- she's your frickin' wife! I'm your best friend... your _best friend's_ girlfriend! What do you think gives you the right to -"

"- To _kiss_ you?," Michael turned his full-frontal angelic vampire body towards her, his face full of venom. Must be 'lets hate Claire Danvers' day among the Glass housemates.

"No, to run for president. Of course to kiss me, you arrogant fang!" Claire screeched, suddenly feeling vulnerable as she saw that all faces in the room were looking at _her_ with disbelief. As though she was the one who kissed _Michael_ and not the other way around. Her body was alive with tension, wishing that Michael would say something to defend her.

Instead, he sighed and said, "I've wanted to do that ever since I first met you."

Then all hell broke loose.


	2. The Traitorous Truth

Chapter Two

Eve made a break for him, fingers curled into claws. She had even managed to rip off all the implanted wires from her arms and face, probably during the time the boys had been insulting poor little Claire. Eve began screaming like a banshee, whilst she charged at her husband. Claire decided to stay, for a little longer, to see what would happened. All in the name of scientific curiosity, of course.

"YOU BUGGER!"

Michael and Shane turned towards the Goth girl simultaneously, making a grab for her.

"Calm down, love," Michael cooed, stroking her arm whilst Shane readied the covers of the hospital bed, for Eve, who immediately slapped the reaching vampire's hand away. Hard.

"DON'T YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, MICHAEL GLASS!" she bellowed, her dyed black hair flaying around her face. Deep brown eyes ablaze like a mad woman. Basically the normal Morganville resident, then. Claire chuckled silently to herself, then sighed.

It was all pointless anyway. Oliver had somehow manipulated Amelie, the town's icy Original Founder, to do his evil and selfish wishes. Life in this town would be hell compared to what the two boys were struggling with...

"Eve, you need to get into bed, "Shane said calmly, ignoring the stream of cussed erupting from the girl's mouth, trying to be helpful for once, "We can sort out the Captain Obvious problem any day. And, Traitor One and Traitor Two here can be punished later, okay?" The girl nodded stiffly, still a bit outraged Claire suspected, but definitely more composed.

Ugh, it was all so sickly sweet. Claire decided that she (or:_"Traitor Two"_) was wasting air just standing in that crappy room. Especially when there was a town to save. And there she was; in hospital. With her, now she actually admitted it, exceedingly messed-up friends. Seriously, what kind of friendship could she have with a bunch of predicable, transparent people anyway?

_Oh, _she smirked devilishly, _don't forget the part were you receive death threats daily simply because your '__friends' had gotten married scandalously, upsetting about the whole town in the progress. _Morganville was run by vampires, yeah, but humans lived here too. A human-vampire marriage had insulted both sectors of the town. A lot.

Turned purposely side-on to Claire (probably so she didn't have to see her 'best girlfriend'), Eve said veraciously to Michael, "I love you, Mickey. I don't care that you kissed Claire. I know you love me, I have the ring to prove it." Claire shuddered slightly, feeling surprisingly upset. Michael looked, had _tasted_, as though he felt something for her. Eve must be profoundly wrong about his feelings for Claire.

He was the mysterious vamp: who had told his ghost secret to her before his best friends; who had always trusted her to make the right decision; who only last year nearly died in her arms.. who had just kissed her way better than Shane had ever or would ever again. Michael's spontaneous kiss had been expertly executed, sexy. With tongue.

It was scientifically probable that their would be romantic chemistry between them now, after all these years of close proximity. Claire could clearly see that the same thing was happening with Myrnin, too, as well as Michael. Jeez, she was full of revelations today. Maybe unwanted insights were what occurred after you have to drag a raging, beating mob of teens off your best friend. Typical.

"I kissed Claire because I felt so angry.. You nearly got killed because you married me.. I wanted to hurt someone... I-I thought that.." Michael sobbed, sounding like a kicked puppy, broke Claire's inner monologue with a snap. Claire felt disgusted. Everything was untainted, now she could see clearly.

This weeping boy was not the Mickey she cared for. Her now ex-boyfriend Shane was just sat there on the bed like an gormless oaf, watching open mouthed at the scene happening at the foot of the bed. Not even glancing once at Claire, who was the pawn in Michael's little game of chess. _Pathetic. _

"..that I would leave you and be safer. You used kissing Claire as the way to make me hate you, didn't you?" Eve softly asked the tearful vampire, as she turned and slowly sunk to sit on the bed. Shane took her hand, Claire saw, though she could only see their backs. A nagging sensation in her brain made her think they both had a triumphant look on their faces. They had cracked the 'why-Michael-was-not-acting-in-their-usual-Disney-character-manner' quiz. It was just a hunch, however, Claire knew it was right. They were so predicable.

But Claire was hopeful. Now recent events had emphasised the (already existing) truth about her friends, she hoped for some more variety. Michael, sweet gorgeous Michael, had kissed the truth into her. He had lit a passionate flame within her she didn't even know she possessed. She wanted him. Badly.

Watching like a hawk, Claire observed . Michael's head was bent, awaiting judgement, as he gazed down on the stupid Gothic Clown that was Eve Glass.

Then he nodded in defeat. The three amigos laughed, and just like that it was back to freaking normal. Lovey-dovey, as always.

But this time was different. Claire was different.

Mike was facing Claire, and the door beyond her, but he only had eyes for Eve. Shocking betrayal ran through Claire's veins when she saw the love for his wife written clearly all over his face. Claire ran backwards out of the room, hand blindingly finding the cool metal of the door hospital door handle. She felt the pain in the back of her eyes that was a symptoms when holding back tears. Tears which, she knew, she didn't have a legit reason to have. She wasn't married to him.

She doubted the three of them even looked up when she slammed the wooden hospital door behind her.


	3. Hidden Inside

Amelie POV

Someone was watching me. One begins to develop these special abilities when you are over a thousand years old. I - the Founder of Morganville - was sat behind my desk when I felt the them focus on my face.

If I were a human, the pulse of my heart would have spiked suddenly at that moment. Mine did not. I was a vampire, the strongest vampire left standing in this broken town. I did not even bat a perfect eyelid at the thought of a peeping tom.

Instead, I focused on the legal papers before me. Earlier this morn, Oliver had sent a blood child his to transfer them unto my possession. My stormy grey eyes scanned the elegant presided script of the first paper. It was all rather amusing to think Oliver contained the brain power to write such things.

Within the first paragraph, he proposed Oliver and I should rule this town side by side. Considering he was the one who had tried many times to defeat me, I had to admit it took my by surprise. Not many vampires had ever made that achievement, not even my father...

_Ah_, I thought. Oliver was the one watching me, most likely. Awaiting my response to his letter. Clever, clever man. Leaning back into my velvet throne, my eyes scanned the round room that I used as my office. I found comfort in knowing there were at least two guards at all entrances. Protecting me from any enemies who may want me deceased. The count of such people was rising daily.

Running a town could be very tiring.

Maybe that is the reason I had let Oliver kiss me earlier. But why had I let my hair down for him? In my entire life, only Sam was the man would I felt alive with; with whom I could relax without the constant fear.

I was alone.

I had defeated the Draug and Magnus. Therefore there was nothing of urgency for me to face. Humans were back to their old tricks, following their irrational hearts instead of their minds. Vampires all over Morganville were begging for the rights to even more hunting privileges.

Few had chosen to openly react to the resurface of the old rules. Claire Danvers, the poor child, had taken it upon herself to accuse Oliver of manipulating _me, _in this very room_._ I had sent her away immediately. Oliver was merely acting as a play thing for me. Yes, he had some interesting ideas; however I have always been one step ahead of everyone else. The absolutely unforeseeable event was when my father had killed Sam.

A single tear dropped from my eyes onto the paper below. Sam_. How I miss you, my love_. Sam Glass, grandfather of Michael Glass, died a year before. My heart ached thinking of him. Truth be told, the love I felt for Oliver was not love... It was the merely relief of being wanted again after so long. Oliver and I could actually stand each other, now, after so long. I knew he wanted to allow our vampire kind to have more freedom. Every time he proposed his idea, a sliver of dark hope benighted within me.

We could grow strong again, as we were before. It was the demonic Draug who had led us to our fall...

I shook my head, wiping away all ill-mannered thoughts. Now was a time for business, not petty human feelings. I returned to looking at the document before me, just as my door was flung open. I did not even look up, I had no need to, haven already recognized their heart beat.

"Hello, Amelie." Claire Danvers stepped lightly into my office. I ignored her, and continued pondering Oliver's requests. The child moved forward, then stopped suddenly. It was tempting to look up, but I did not. The document was far more interesting. I heard her sigh, then retreat and she against the door.

Just then, right there at the bottom of the paper, was a handwritten note from Oliver himself. It caught my eye causing an absorb amount of intrigue within me.

_My dearest Amelie,_

_Forgive me for all I have done in the past. I feel finally that this town is exactly what you wanted; a safe haven for vampires. We could farm the humans slowly, inconspicuously, my dear. We can live among humans safely from the outside world. I ask you to consider all I written,_

_Love _

_Oliver. _

Love...Sam... love... Oliver... _love_. I couldn't believe my eyes. An invisible spotlight suddenly shone down on me, an iron fist closed in on my lungs. My thoughts became jumbled and I frankly forgot the human child was present.

I began to weep with happiness.


	4. Confused Mess

Claire POV

* * *

Claire stood watching Amelie in disbelief; the Founder was bawling like a baby. Okay, that was an exaggeration. Amelie was just heaving her shoulders - permitting tears to fall from her eyes. Generally known around Morganville as the equivalent of a bawling vampire.

The creatures rarely showed any emotion, just the occasional minute expression. Michael's obvious sadness earlier meant his insides must have been a mashed up mess. _Oh, Michael..._

Amelie sniffed delicately, forcing Claire to look at her poor figure, slumped over her desk. Everyone was so out of character today. Claire sighed, for what seemed like the billionth time. Should she comfort the vampire? Amelie wasn't one for open displays of affection. Decision made.

Claire took a step towards the door, purposely setting her back to the weeping woman. Sometimes people just needed privacy.

"Claire," the woman voice spiked in volume as the name went on. Doubling back -Claire returned to her previous stature in response like a good little solider.

"I thought-," she began but then had to swallow. The run over from the hospital had made her mouth feel like a scorpion had set up home there. After a second of recovery, she carried on: "I thought you wanted to be alone."

"Claire", Amelie repeated. The Founder's face was repositioned to its usual self: perfect yet inscrutable, the face said clearly and slowly: "the drama of life begins with a wail and ends with a sigh."

Smart as she was, Claire had no clue what the heck Amelie was making riddles about this time.

Amelie continued: "I like to interpret those words as 'We are all human, things happen'" The ghost of a smile playing on her thin lips

"But you're not human. Unless you forgot - you are a vampire -"

"So that reflects my emotions? Poor little child, when the time comes for you to turn; you can speak to me about emotions then. Until this moment, take my word as the truth."

Ah, someone's feeling better already.

"okaay- Are you busy?" Claire pointed at the papers, "I can come back."

"I can hear your heartbeat, you have something bothering you."

"It's, um, just... Michael.. He's acting really wrong. He k-kissed me."

Amelie looked impassive at that.

"And this is worth bothering me because -"

"Because I am sick and tired of people _using_ me as a pawn in their games. I want it to stop." Claire started to shout, releasing all the pain and irritation hidden within her ever since she came to this damn town.

"I understand. You want my guidance." Amelie nodded her head, the blonde knot at the base of her skull jiggling and flopping with each fractional movement.

"Well? What can you do?!"

"You already know the answer."

Claire shuddered, contemplating the possibilities. All she wanted was to be recognised and respected. Not a stepping stone to annoy or please someone else. Never, ever allow herself to get into a situation like that again.

"Shouldn't we find Myrnin?"

"Hum, that would be much preferable, yes."

"Where is he?"

Amelie smiled, and buzzed for her assistant on a telephone upon her desk. Normally vampires hate modern technology... But Claire supposed times change.

The next second, Mrynin came through the door.

"Hello Claire," he said, his dark eyes glistening with the mischief yet to come.

"Wha-"

"We have an enemy among us Claire, many people want Our Founder dead. It seemed obvious I needed to hide." Mrynin chuckled, crazily fulfilled with the idea of such a great deception.

Claire smiled widely, her mind screaming that the last time she had seen this vampire had been... Their kiss. Oh. The smile went as soon as it came.

Grunting, she said, "How's this going to happen?"

"Oh," Mrynin said, "that, dear, is your choice. It will definitely be me completing this task as our Founder is too weak at present. Creating Michael took a lot of fuel out of her. When do you wish to become a vampire, sweet Claire?"

Claire took a few seconds to think. As a vampire: she would be able to learn, to protect herself, to help others...

"Tomorrow."

* * *

**Hmm, I know what's going to happen, but you don't. **

**Is someone going to cause some trouble before Claire can change, or is she going to shock everyone with her new vampy looks?**

**Review!**


	5. Unexpected Company

Oliver POV

* * *

I would've bet the entirety of my old kingdom to any beggar or fool; based on the knowledge that my face was mirroring the pitiful human's.

Icy Lady Amelie was cracking.

I have never seen a monster such as I show so much emotion. Never. And I've lived far too long for me to admit. My plan was not working as it should, quite the opposite. I had wanted anger from the woman I was watching, not... Whatever _that_ was.

Disgusted, I threw my body apart from the window edge-like object I lent on earlier. Morganville was under this wretch's ruling? The same blind and 'vulnerable' woman who had allowed me - the enemy who has decades over her, physically - to kiss her?

"What's up, Ollie?"

The voice broke through my inner monologue. Gritting my teeth together, I glared at the child. The disgust towards Amelie painting my face into an ugly twist.

"Be quiet." I ordered of her, amusing myself by imagining my glare held a million tiny daggers flying towards her jester-like face. Taunting me.

"Well, Oliver." the child spoke with q disrespectful tone - throwing a fist to her hip - "Whatever creepy, staker_ish_ crap you're up to-"

"I told you, silence." I repeated.

"- with those damn floating doors -" Thankfully, just then the other person in our hide out cut off her annoyingly high-pitched voice. This man was, how do you say in today's society, a 'frenemy'.

"Girl, those are not mere door's, " The man hissed haughtily, pointing with an elaborate gesture towards my precious standing place, "Those are _portals_."

"My name, freak, is not Girl. It's Monica _Morrell_! And.. and why are you even here anyway?" Monica said, not a single pause taken to breath, as I began to pace the room. It was all so irritable.

I blocked out the man and Monica's arguing. My brain hurt for the first time in decades. Seizing the throne had not been this complex!

I knew someone else was playing this game parallel to myself, the signs we all there. Humans acting post-apocalypse crazy, paranoid. Weak vampires were acting... Stranger than usual. The two on the sofa were still arguing.

"... You are such a bloody ignorant.."

"...you cannot comprehend just how much I want to..."

"... Crazy stupid narcissistic..."

"... The fake blonde monkey finally says a long word!"

I cracked.

"BE QUIET YOU PEASANTS" I bellowed. It was so loud which lead to me feeling vibrations deep in my stomach. Silence whipped around the room, catching my two allies at surprise. Until they burst out in childish giggles.

"W-what the hell is a p-pheasant?" said Monica between outbursts, covering her mouth with a perfectly manicured hand.

Myrnin mirrored the teenager's hand only to halt her laughter, still looling like a cheshire cat himself.. She slowly came to a stop. Her laughter was still ringing my ears, however. Monica shot a glaring eyeball towards Myrnin. Brave of her.

"Oliver," Myrnin spoke after a few seconds of comfortable silence' "what did you see through my portal?"

I hesitated. It was one thing to betray your self-appointed leader. To make their name worthy enough to throw rotten food at... that was just evil. I am not evil. Just exceptionally good at self-preservation.

"Nothing substantial. Not what I was hoping for anyway.." I glanced down at the machine in my hand. I had forgotten it was there. Mrynin stood up from the leather sofa to my right where he and Monica sat. He took it from me with a quizzical brow raised.

"Did this actually work?"

"Yes, Myrnin. Most of your crazy machines do work. Sometimes"

"Firstly, I am totally shocked! You said something nice, Ollie-" Monica spoke with both mine and Myrnin's reluctant attention. Why did I need her?

"- and secondly, what is that rubbish?"

"oh," Myrnin's eyes gleaming with mischief and insanity. The usual Myrnin, "It's a simple device designed to alter light beams and sound waves to condense into one single area from another."

Monica blinked, "Soo it's kinda like a telescope?"

"It works through portals, too. Meaning I could open a portal in a tall physical feature overlooking Amelie's office without Oliver leaving this room to see it. Therefore he would be invisible to any persons who looked into the tree."

"A tree?!" Monica burst out with a breathy giggle for the millionth time during this meeting. On the edge of another laughing fit, I lookes at her. Monica's chuck was put to an end by my rather ominous expression. Again. She sobered soon after to ask,"Why couldn't anyone see a floating Ollie, then?"

"I made the receiving portal very small, only large enough for this device to fit into the gap."

Monica and I smiled at the same time only to stare each-other down. She obviously wanted to comment on that before I. Little puny, stupid... She then backed-down further into the sofa and retreated.

"Does your precious Claire know about this?" I asked, honestly interested. Myrnin had developed an unhealthy infatuation with the human. He claimed it was not true, he only 'loved her open mind', I could tell it was otherwise. She was not as smart as they said.

Myrnin flopped himself back next to Monica on the sofa, causing her to jostle a little. He sheepishly looked from the teenage to me, and back again.

"No, she barely knows anything at all."

* * *

**A/N : Just to clarify, a frenemy is an enemy who pretends to be a friend. Sort of. **


	6. Chilling Insights

**Claire's POV**

* * *

Somehow, Claire managed to stop staring at Myrnin as though he had turned into a puppy. He _wanted _her to turn. When did that happen? They had been working on a way to give Frank - the brain within the machine Morganville was so dependant on - the ability to project himself into real flesh and blood.

As a synthetic humanoid, Frank would exist only in the small perimeters of the portals. The science behind it was out of Claire's league but Myrnin, who was her boss, got a thrill out of teaching her the odd formula or two. He was very entusiatic about it all. Passionate, even.

Anyway, this new update for Frank would make everything so much easier. Claire could talk to him face-to-face again, which she needed; especially since she wanted some advice about how to handle an angry Shane. Should they ever cross paths...

"Claire," Amelie said before her inner monologue could finish the ugly trail of that thought; "Oliver - as my consort - has made several claims that you and your friends are a danger to this town."

Claire's mouth drooped open. _Me? Dangerous! Pah_. She was only eighteen, and barely. These vampires had hundreds of years on her. Oliver could not possibly be threatened by her.

She noticed Myrnin hadn't said anything since Amelie discussed the process of turning into a vampire, when he had a lot to say on that subject, evidently. His lean and elegant figure clothed in his usual Victorian style top and legging-like trousers as he lounged against Amelie's desk. Oh. He was also wearing his bunny slippers. Can't the bunny slippers, of course. He was weirdly beautiful, tainted with his absolutely undeniable craziness.

Amelie's talk had disturbed her, causing all previous traces of Myrnin's ideas and plans to vanish. Claire worried for her friends. If Oliver thought they could be a problem, he would terminate them. Like all of this other problems.

Eve and Shane probably didn't want to ever see her again. Poor Michael was most likely still crying inside. No, they wouldn't miss little Claire if Oliver terminated her. Amelie's gaze suddenly penetrated her face very sternly then. Oops, she was waiting yet Claire hadn't said anything.

"D-Danger... then why are you allowing me to turn?"She asked around coughs, at a pathetic attempt to fill the awkward silence.

"I need your knowledge of the machine. Its accessibility is the key to the continuity of Morganville. Especially since Myrnin here is slowly fading." The vampire replied nervelessly.

"So this has nothing to do with -" Claire shot a side glance at her vampire boss, whom she noted was watching her intently. His feelings for Claire were becoming more and more obvious by the day.

"- with our earlier discussion?" Amelie saved her from mortal embarrassment. If Myrnin were to realise Shane had separated from her, he would probably try something. Especially now they were so close...

Amelie continued, a shade of a smile on her pale face: "No, it is not. However your predicament does offer me a very opportune excuse to secure the machine forever."

"As in, no one will care that I would be basically dead. No offence," Claire rapidly added, trying to be at least well-mannered for the very old, very moody vampires. The elder of the two, Amelie, got up from behind her ornate desk. She began pacing, looking as though she had returned to her normal, Oliver hating, self. Despite the little mention of him possessing the consort job. Eww.

"Let us further discuss your future restrictions."

* * *

**Some time later..**

Once Amelie had dismissed Myrnin and Claire in her usual authoritative way, they took a portal to the lab.

The familiar tingling ice sensation ran its cool fingers along her bare skin as she stepped into the darkness of some unknown physics. Myrnin gasped from behind her. The feeling was different yet euphoric every time.

A light appeared before Claire's eyes almost simultaneously and she walked to her usual spot on a rotting wooden desk chair. She stopped, and looked around. The lab as clean as it could possible. An impossible feat considering it's habitant was a bipolar vampire. Speaking of, that said vampire stepped out of the closing portal.

Myrnin had a ridiculously amused look on his face.

"Myr," Claire growled with a stern look on her face, "what aren't you telling me?" He jumped up and down on the spot, looking like a Cheshire cat on a high. Myrnin shook his jet black hair of head at her, before running off to rumble around in dome deep and scary cupboard where Bob the Spider had taken up unauthorised residence. Unauthorised by Claire, of course. That damn spider gave her the shivers.

"Here!" The crouched vampire exclaimed from the other side of the industrially lit lab. He held up some drawings and pictures... of himself. Claire raised an eyebrow as he strode with long steps, back to where she sat. She looked at the pictures for a second. Some were hand-drawn by artists. Others were obviously self-portraits because they were extremely bias; Myrnin had drawn his eyes larger than life and his nose a lot shorter.

Claire noticed a pattern, however. Each were from a different angle of his profile, and each were blurring into one another...

"I don't get it, Myr. I'm t-t-," Claire yawned widely, "tired. Haven't slept in days." It was true. Now she had stopped doing; she could feel the need hours of kip in her body. Myrnin looked like he was about to argue but Claire started to slip off her chair, so she didn't really get to see how he reacted.

The last thing she could remember was Myrnin talking to himself. Literally, himself. There were two of him. _Well,_ she thought amused, _that explained his weird mood swings. _Claire could hear the real Myrnin - the one who now carried her in a fireman's lift towards his bedroom - tell the other Myrnin to delete the files and go back to 'his' original form.

Claire's eyes drooped some more as she swung from side to side with Myrnin's back. Her eyes began to close. But not before she saw the other Myrnin become Frank Collins.

_What in hell..._

She collapsed asleep just as Myrnin left the lab and entered his room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Myrnin POV**

* * *

Once I had lain claire down comfortably to recharge, I returned to the main lab. It was a utter success. We had done it! My creation of a hundred years ago was still running - more or less - on the additions of new technologies over the years. Claire had helped a great deal with this recent addition. My greatest child.

Frank Collis smiled at me as my full frame was clearer in under the scientific lights.

"That was the weirdest crap I've ever done, Mrynin, and I've done a lot of crazy crap in my life." he greeted me cooly. Monotone. I brushed his complaint aside as I weaved between the large surgeon-like desks. Where had I put it?

"You will not need to do it again. Much." I conceded causing Frank's image to barely flicker as his body reflected his inside feelings. That was good. He merely felt annoyance, not nearly the murdering frame of mind.

"Much?" His voice said from behind me now. I was still looking for it. Where had the retched man put it now? Think. If I was forced to pose as a man I hated, what would I do?

"Play time is over, Dog, where is my machine?"

"What machine?"

"You know very well which machine." I came to the edge of my thither. Frank was not nearly as close as Claire's brain to what i wanted in my machine. The Morganville machine. The very machine was the entity of the town. The life force.

And the bloody fool stood before me... _was_ the power. Just my eternal luck.

"Oh, the machine with my brain in it? That's been moved to a more secure area -"

"- how _dare_ you?-"

"- whilst I had the suitable body to get past the security measures."

He began to walk away from me in his three-dimensional body. Claire had been the one who had made that giant leap for us. With mu help of course. It was part of our bargain for my turning of her to vampirism.

We had to make Frank Collins feel more alive.

"Whatever you have done, Claire will not be happy."

"You think I care about that slut? My son has..."

"- informed you?"

"Not in the way you are thinking," Frank was circling me as I was still searching for the damn machine. The scarred and harsh set of his face would have made him horrific to a human. I was not scared, having seen the depths of the underworld themselves. I stop moving to look at the 'man-vampire-machine' in interest as he continues, "He now has a death wish for vampires, even more than before. Vampires kissed his girl. And now they're bloody gonna turn her."

A chuckle sneaks out from between my pearly white teeth. Frank shot me a disgusted look - as if Michael's hormonal actions were my fault - before vanishing all together in an albeit dramatic swish. With nothing to do but listen to mind's voices, I took my leave then. Each step was heavy, yet tender. Calculated, yet crazy.

A modern woman once said you can learn a lot from someone from their feet. Or was it shoes?

I shook my head in despair for the present generations. The pure and volatile teachings of chemistry and alchemy no longer mattered. Alcohol and sex ruled the world. Not that i don't enjoy them both, however.

My steps took me back towards the room where Claire was unconscious on my bed. _Yum_, I thought as I came to see the slender body of my soon-to-be-vampire assistant beneath the deep burgundy velvet blanket cover. Her chest rising and falling. Just that, over and over.

I watched the human sleep with interest, as many vampires do in so-called modern-day fiction. I was not brooding, not like the pathetic excuse for a vampire..._Edmund. _Or Edward? It did not matter. He was unintelligent either way.

Stood in the same spot for what may have been hours, it did not matter, the breathing suddenly became _aware_. Then out of the silence her voice travelled to me.

"Mrynin, does it work?"

* * *

**Amelie POV**

****The upcoming events of the day needed to be perfectly executed. A new-born vampire is the most strongest, most volatile creature on earth. We must not allow it to reign free.

I turned to face the child. Her face, so young yet determined, was line-less; not a wrinkle penetrating the skin. My hand touched my face without permission. The two of us would never have to worry about aging wrinkles again. This made me happy.

There were four of us in my ornate office, my residence for the last twelve hours, dotted around the room. As I crouched down into an unfamiliar pose before a new furniture addition to the room, I caught each man's eyes. Mrynin, Oliver, Michael and... My father.

I focused on my creator's steady eyes before focusing on inches away from me, toward the seated child. I stared into her eyes and yet he seemed to mock my averted gaze, still, even in portrait. I had Oliver paint it as a reminder of the great things this town - my child - had overcome.

Regret began to seep into me. He was not a man to ridicule, I knew, but I could not help my need to make the joke of the Bishop name. The man had nearly killed the entire town before the Draug attacked. Nearly.

The Draug, now those were creatures I would not even dare to speak of. They were my worst fears, and my only nightmare. _However_, I admitted myself, _for all honesty I was afraid of being alone even more. _This was why I created my vampire bloodline in the primarily.

"Are you ready, Claire? It may hurt a little." I tell her with an almost motherly tone. This child brought out the deeply buried human in me, profoundly. Before she could even open her mouth, Michael snickered.

"Don't lie to her, Founder." He sneered with an ugly look on his angelic face. The two contrasting of beauty on one man was alluringly haunting. But this did not matter. I tilted my head towards my youngest child, whom was lounging on my throne-like chair with his filthy feet on my beautiful desk; I noted he was also speaking with arrogance. If he wished to act so, he may as well be an outlandish Nomad. Disgusting behaviour in my presence_. _

"I would not, Boy. I am allowing you to be here, as you are the youngest and therefore most likely to understand the pain she may or may not go through. You are not here to pass judgement nor cause Claire pain."

Mrynin darted out from behind me in a flash. After a forced blink on my part, he had Michael up on the wall by the neck.

"I am ready." Claire said, almost as a way of diverting attention for Michael. The boy who had ruined her life not a day ago.

I bit into my wrist and caught a taste of rapturing blood. Claire's eyes widened slightly as I forced into her mouth. My eyes met Mrynin's - who was still holding Michael away like a rabid dog - as I listened to her retching and gulping.

The change came quickly.

It was the same as the others. A slight curiosity becomes a devouring obsession in seconds. Claire became obsessed with blood in that moment, the second of euphoria before the devastating pain on both our parts.

I swayed and fell into the chair she had now vacated. I barely registered the child writhing and screaming, Mrynin holding her hand like a life line and Michael watching with unguarded horror on his face.

To me, it was like I was in England, watching an early Shakespearian play all over again. The drama, the lights, the emotion.

Her screaming developed a beautiful tone as the vampirism overtook her and her ever so clear brown eyes met mine. The young meeting the old, with comprehension between us two. That gaze held the understanding of what she wanted so badly.

Blood.

Michael left the room with a storm of thunderous betrayal; obviously feeling like Rosaline would have done with Romeo. Like a lover and a wife. He had lost a friend here that day.

No-one but I noticed how he was muttering about Eve and Shane; their safety and unforgivable loyalty to Claire despite it all. Or how, as he shut my office door on the new-born vampire, he had something murderous in his eye.

The screaming stopped when the door swung shut. Claire and Mrynin both looked at me expectedly, but I merely spread out my hands.

"It is done," I announced, feeling pride flowing in as I had once again remained alive for such a dangerous blood transfer. I felt invinicble as I focused as I had previously, on the Claire's face.

She revealed her newly grown fangs. Both Mrynin and I saw that they caught the light from the candlelarbra above us with a tantalising seduction.

And at last, Claire smiled.


	8. The Turning Point

**Claire POV**

* * *

Everything was so much clearer, brighter. Amelie's office Her life belonged to her and her alone. How could she have been so stupid? Everything was brighter now. The decision had been made by herself for herself. Her headstone would now read: "Claire Danvers, beloved daughter, scientist and vampire."

Most people, once becoming a new vampire would have craved blood or even sex. But not Claire. During the transition, which by the way had been _extremely _painful, Michael had returned into the room at the sound of her dying screams. Now she rose and walked over to him.

And slapped him. Hard.

"What the- Why -?" He began in outrage before she cut him off.

"Why? I'll tell you why Michael-I-Can-Do-Anything Glass! You kissed me, you.. you...BASTARD." Claire screamed in his face, knowing that she looked like Eve had merely days before. Angry, hurt. Betrayed. "Eve is my best friend. You are my friend. WHY THE HELL? That's why the hell." Her body acted without her knowledge, she didn't care. Now that she could stop and think... she knew what Michael did was wrong. And there was no logical explanation for it other than his damn testosterone for a pretty girl. For something forbidden. She hated him.

"Claire-" Mrynin stepped towards her with his arms held aloft. He spoke in his authoritative yet calming voice. Like a large dog with a puppy bark. The thought made her laugh and she couldn't stop. "Claire. Please, stop this insanity. It's unattractive."

"_He_ ruined my life!" Claire shouted at Mrynin, who looked taken aback at her change in personality. She turned back to Michael and pinned him against the wall easily with her newfound strength, "He let me enter their house when they _knew_ the vampires in his town hated them, when they were in danger. They put _me _in danger. A stranger who was already battered and bruised from humans. Then he let me fall for Shane, heck he even encouraged it after a while, when we all know what a jerk Shane Collins can be."

"Claire! This isn't you, this is the cravings. Shane is not a jerk! You know that! How-" Michael argued which just infuriated her even more. She pressed him further into the wall. He winced in pain and shut up. Claire continued.

"..And they have let me risk my life for them over and over and over without so much of a 'thanks'. Michael was too damn selfish to turn me away – all he could see was my money and my brains and maybe even my body. I have broken off of my dreams for them, I let MIT go, I've got stuck in this damn town and heck! I FUCKING DIED FOR YOU. And how do you repay me? YOU KISS ME WITH YOUR FIANCE IN THE ROOM, MY BEST FRIEND, AND WONDER WHY MY BOYFRIEND BREAKS UP WITH ME. I hate you, Glass."

"_Claire, stop._" A tender hand gripped her contracted arms with urgency. Mrynin. He stepped in between her and Michael and moved both hands to either side of her face. She could see only him, and found herself reigning in her fury at Michael, feeling like Mrynin was a candle in a dark room. Her salvation. Her anchor. Claire felt her anger slink away as she stared into his abyss-deep eyes, which wore a look of despair in them. But that wasn't what made her stop. The fact that Michael's arms were breaking below her dainty hands suddenly became aware to her. She pulled slowly away, letting him off the wall.

"What's happening to me?" Claire whimpered and astonished herself by grabbing Mrynin into a tight hug. He hesitated for a second before relaxing into her and returning the hug. He was good at it, surprisingly, considering he hadn't hugged anyone for like, a billion years or something. Claire's mathematical brain wasn't working.

The other three vampires in the room did not answer her spoken fears. She had to get away. The room was closing in on her. Claire's gums hurt like crazy. She went on tip toes to speak in Mrynin's ear. "_Blood,_" She whispered, her voice cracking from the sudden dryness in her mouth. It was all she could thing about. Blood, blood, blood, blood, blood, blood, blood -

"_Allons-y_. Amelie, is there a blood bag reserve nearby? I can- can't really remember at this instant." She heard Mrynin say over the roaring sounds in her ears. Blood, blood, blood, blood, blood, blood, blood...

"I'm thirsty." She said to no one in particular. Claire gripped Mrynin tighter, Michael tried to stroke her hair but her fangs came out once more. Threatening. He backed off, shrugging with a moody look on his face.

"Of course," Claire could barely hear the Founder remark coolly over her thoughts. It was numbing. Like being under water and trying to get up over the waves; unable to. Like a sea of blood. Blood, blood, blood, blood, blood... Claire could feel the ground no longer. Only Mrynin's strong, stiff arms.

"Is there something wrong with her?" She heard Michael say from above her head – walking beside her and Mrynin. The little cheek had the gumption to sound worried. Their steps began to get rapid as they transitioned into vampy-running. _What was it called? Vunning? Vamping? Rampy?_ She thought, trying to pull herself out of the blood craze. It didn't work. She just remembered the hospital, where Eve was lying, connected to a bag of red euphoria..._blood_.

"That is no concern of yours, whoreson." Claire's mentor sneered at her old friend. If she could have – she would have smiled. The pain was too much. She began to thrash in Mrynin's arms. "_Hush now, lovely love. Almost arrived. Oh my lord, please. Claire? Claire?..."_ Her ears could no longer hear him properly. Her screaming stopped. All she could see was darkness and she knew there was something wrong... She looked up at Mrynin, who was screaming something frantically and shaking her, and stared into his eyes. Then her eyesight cut out, too.

Somehow the vampiric change was not...something was wrong with her transition. She felt like she was going to die before she blacked out.

_God, help me. _

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it's been so long since the last update. I had no idea what to write and have decided to change what the original plot line was; it just didn't make sense and was just asdfghjkl. Therefore, I'm going to continue with a different endgame in mind but don't worry - everything that's already happened will still fit in:)**

**_Thanks for reading, please review!_**

**_-FoulkseyDarkRose_**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 - ****_"Morganville goes for the multifarious look"_**

**Claire's POV**

* * *

There was something wrong with her. Something really, really wrong. Claire's head thumped harder than a hundred simultaneous headaches, which made it harder for her to figure out what had happened. Each little impact stunned her, dragged her backwards, threw her into the empty oblivion, and back to the start; a never-ending roundabout of pain. Nothing she had ever faced - not the acid on her back, or being bitten by Mrynin in one of his episode, that deadly broken neck from Magnus or watching Eve's face as Michael kissed her – nothing compared to this.

Claire's body felt like it had been injected with a huge overdose of morphine, or leaked of all her blood. That last theory probably wasn't true, she admitted to herself, since she could feel the blood blasting against the temporal part of her skull with every hit of headache. She couldn't feel anything but pain, she could not see or smell or hear. It was delightful, to say the least. Even though she – Claire Danvers, major nerd and self-appointed ruler of all nerds – could not think clearly, she knew that there were several options. As a logophile (noun: a lover of words), Claire also knew that on a normal day she would be able to come up with a few choice words to describe her situation. Maybe it was all the time she had spent with Shane, or just being away from school or books for so long. The only words that came to mind were: '_Holy Crap' _and '_ouch'._

Anyway, Claire figured there were some reasons that she was now locked in the darkness of her own mind:

a) Claire was some kind of prodigal child with an allergy to vampire blood

b) Her previous death had meant it was impossible to turn her

c) She didn't swallow enough of Amelie's blood or,

d) There was something massively wrong with Amelie's blood.

And none of those options seemed particularly promising. Typical Claire Danvers, she really knew how to get life right.. Don't you Claire? She inwardly sighed and just lay wherever she was hoping that the others knew what to do. Prayed that they were doing _something_.

* * *

**Myrnin's POV**

Erudite was an adjective how many who knew me had described me in the past; a man whom characterized by his great knowledge, learned and scholarly. If only they would see me at that very resplendent moment, they would see how I have grown. My vituperative clearing of the piles and piles of somewhat desultory papers off Amelie's desk would tell them that I, Myrnin the ancient and mad, truly did care for a mere human girl. A girl who, upon turning into a vampire, appeared to die.

She cannot be dead, I could feel a pulse. The erratic rate did none to please me, but it was enough to be hopeful. I had found hope in much, much less in my long and dull life. I lay her directly on to the now empty desk.

"My lady! This girl is in need of urgent help!" The silence that answered me gave the premonitions that something was utterly and irrevocably wrong. It was hard to turn away from Claire's haggard face, but it was a necessity. On the ground, with a similar expression to match that of Julius Caesar on his bloody deathbed, was Amelie. I rushed to her side. Alike Claire she had a distorted pulse and haggard face. Unlike Claire, she had a minute healed cut at the edge of a finger. Such a cut could easily be created without a blink for such an aged vampire. Was this an illness, or a plague? Had the curse upon Amelie returned?

As a wise man once said, participating in this world can teach you many things but only upon stopping to watch the world go round can you learn the many hidden truths. Scratch that... I just said that.

Luckily, I knew for a fact that this was not the case as being the smartest person in town meant that I could easily predict when other's were becoming restless and impatient. The stale air around town ever since the Magnus attack told me the humans, vampires, and other unknown groups had decided collectively that Our Founder was no longer fitted to run this dysfunctional constitution Therefore, I soon become a member belonging to the cabals in this god's forsaken town. There was a reason Frank morphed into the image of myself, he had been a spy in each one of the splinter groups for months. He was with Oliver, under the pretense of disliking the rule of Amelie. With Shane, under the pretense of protect Claire from the "big, evil" vampires. With many new players in town. Frank was well-acquainted enough with my mannerisms to play-act as myself, which was a feat he was not proud of. The only message I had given him was to be laconic, although my magniloquent language was most likely at a loss to him. Simple man, a brave man, but a very simple one too. But why was this important?

There was an obvious explanation as to why Claire, my beloved Claire, and Amelie, to whom I have always been the most loyally delinquent servant, were currently laying half-dead. Impossible, many would say. I laugh to myself and glance around the room. The mess I have made is quite contrasting to how it all was before, such was the pretense of order Amelie had created for herself. Then I see it in my peripherals: a letter. A letter which may have been opened with a pen knife, or some sort of opener - then I spot such an item by the shining metal. Yes, there are small drops of blood on the delicious silver. The letter itself is lovely, in terms of paper quality. Holding it to my somewhat pointed nose, I sniff in deeply. Circa early 1700s. The only villain in town old enough to own such paper would be Oliver. Although upon opening the letter I see it is signed 'with love, Oliver' or some similar smut.

Many would say that to find the cure of this disease would be impossible. The trick to doing the impossible, I have often found, is to simply never think past the furthest reach of your fingertips. Do the thing in front of you. Then the next. Then the next. In such ways have men built the pyramids, or climbed mountains, or raced to the moon on rockets. Or in my case, fall in love when you are nowt but an old cobbler with a wayward mind focused upon nothing but science. I strode to a nearby wall and willed a portal to open, such things are quite simple when you use the effort of a full capacity brain. The brain is like a flowing river, I think as I drape little Claire over one shoulder, it bubbles and bounces but it can never really reach the freedom of escaping the confinement the river's bank traps it in. The water, with enough rain and power, can then flood the plains nearby and leave the prison it was once in.

Oliver had drugged the paper. Once the letter reached Amelie's surface skin cells, all that was needed was for her to create an incision for the poison to seep into the blood stream and flow around the entirely of her body. The wound would then heal, trapping the jeopardised blood inside. Until another blood-deep wound opened, the poison would be dormat as the levels of oxygen in the blood where low enough to not cause anything. However, when Claire bit into Amelie's wrist, enough oxygen from the air triggered the posion, infecting both Claire and Amelie.

I stepped through the now ready portal into my lab and place Claire upon my bed as she had been merely a day before. Frank stood behind me. One of my hand involuntarily stroked a loose strand of her hair to behind her ear. Frank coughed. I ignored him.

"What's up with you, gloomy Dracula?" The hologram asked, sounding gruff and utterly banal in his 'tough-guy' act.

"There's been an incident. Oliver has attacked."

"The heck? I swear he wasn't doing much but telling that Monica kid off."

"My dear friend, will you ever become less narrow minded and stop the pedantic sermons that do bore me to death? Oliver would never show his whole plan to us - and by that I mean, me."

"I still don't gettit, why is my son's girlfriend in a coma, then?"

Tired of the man's stupidity, I stared at Claire's face. It was so young, so fresh, with the odd red pimple that caused the adolescent of this age to scream in fear. Not Claire, she took such superficial things into her stride. Her face... whenever I am in trouble I always see her, and it always calms me. Profound. The back of my hand caresses the contours of her face; a nondescript face with so many countless imperfections that it is perfect. It is Claire. My Claire.

"She's not your son's to possess. Claire is mine." I said. Frank remained silent. My eyes left Claire for a moment to look him in the eye. There was nothing there. Nothing but alacrity.

"That's what I wanted to hear. I hate the idea of my son caught up love's lust when there's vamps to kill."

It wasn't until the words kill and vamps registered in my mind that I realised that Michael Glass had not been in the room. And I also came to realise that I had left Amelie unattended. Vulnerable. I rushed to the closest portal and flew into the room like a vampire on drugs.

It was empty.


End file.
